


redemption

by hereforthehurts



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Febuwhump, Febuwhump 2021, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Impaling, Internal angst, Whump, happy ending I promise, injuries, please i have never seen a fic for mako, self hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29198028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereforthehurts/pseuds/hereforthehurts
Summary: Mako gets injured in a fight while protecting Asami.(But it was probably okay. He doesn't deserve to live, anyway.)
Relationships: Bolin & Korra & Mako & Asami Sato, Implied Mako/Wu, Korra & Mako (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato, Mako & Asami Sato
Comments: 7
Kudos: 94





	redemption

**Author's Note:**

> For febuwhump day 4: impaling !! 
> 
> anyways.. . . personalities for Mako. i swear to god i will never stop

Mako had always been familiar with fight scenes.   
  
  
Well, he’s an officer—of course he’s familiar with it. That’s what he signed up for, right? And with his luck, he’s always been able to get away with it for most of his life. Maybe a few scratches, bruises, burns—the worst to date was when he permanently scarred his arm while taking down Kuvira’s giant mech.   
  
  
But never impaled. He’s never planned for this to happen.   
  
  
Yet here he stood anyway, eyes wide while the bottom half of his body goes numb. He’s paralyzed in place despite his head screaming at him to _run,_ alarms going off all over his body.   
  
  
  


  
Asami screams for his name somewhere in the distance.   
  
  
  
There’s dust and fire everywhere, the sky dark above him. Mako’s knees buckled as his body registers the pain spreading on his torso, like raw electricity surging through his veins. His head hits the ground.   
  
  
Asami came into view. Her mouth was open, screaming, panic written all over her face.   
  
  
  
_How did he get into this situation out of all places, anyway?  
  
_  
  
“—ako! Hey, look at me, shit, shit _shit shit shit!_ Please look at me—” Asami places a hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek, tapping gently to keep him conscious. “Come on, come on, you’re gonna be okay—”  
  
  
Her eyes, full of fire. Her jet black hair, flying everywhere as the fight continues all around them.   
  
_Oh. He remembers, now._  
  
  
He jumped in front of her to protect her, didn’t he? He jumped in front of her to trade her life with his because it was the least he could do, to make things up to her.   
  
  
  
_“Korra!”_  
  
  


To both of them.   
  
  
Mako wanted to scoff. He really was an asshole, wasn’t he?   
  
  
The blade made it painful to breathe. He could taste the blood in his mouth, metallic and bitter as he chokes for air.   
  
“Hey, hey hey—Sit up with me, come on, I’ve got you—” Asami says, placing a hand under his neck to support him. “Breathe. Try to breathe. Korra will be here in a while, please, just hold on for me, okay?”  
  
  
  
  
  
He doesn’t have to hold on. Dying as a hero would be the only way he’d be able to forgive himself.   
  
  
God, he was _such_ an asshole.   
  
  
He watches while Asami tries to compress his wound with the blade still halfway inside him. He wanted to tell her that she doesn’t have to bother with it anymore, but he doesn’t have the heart nor the strength to say it to her.   
  
_This is it, right? This is how everything will end._  
  
  
Mako tries to imagine his obituary. _Officer Mako, age 24._ That was all he could come up with—what would they say about him? There was nothing good about him for them to say, anyway.   
  
  
Except for Bolin. His brother was truly the only good thing that came from him.   
  
  
  
  
_Shit, Bolin. What will happen to him?_  
  
“Sami, you’d—” He tries to reach for her arm with what little strength he had left, “you’d take care of Bolin, wouldn’t you?”  
  
Tears formed in Asami’s eyes as her face fell. “What—no! I—I meant, yes, of course, but—why would you say that? Mako—” she held him closer, fire reflecting in her eyes, “listen to me. You. Are. _Not._ Dying.”  
  
  
Her words ended up sounding more like denial rather than determination.   
  
  
“It’s okay,” he tries to reassure her. “It’s okay if I die.”  
  
“No, it’s _not!”_ She exclaims, her voice finally breaking. “Why—why did you have to do that, why did you have to stand in front of me, why did you—”  
  
 _Because you still have so much to live for,_ Mako wanted to say to her. He could see it now, in his last minutes of life, the future that Asami holds. Her wedding with Korra, Naga and Bolin standing side to side as their best men. Her house, on the suburbs of Republic City, and a garden blooming wildly with flowers. Her holding her firstborn, Korra crying on her side as the tiny baby stares up at her.   
  
  
They had so much to live for. And at least, Mako played a good part on making it happen.   
  
  
  
  
  
That was enough for him.   
  
  
  
  
Slowly, he lets himself slip away.   
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
He could see the piercing light before he even opened his eyes.   
  
  
  
Mako frowns, the sudden pain washing over him like a high tide as he slowly regained his consciousness. There’s a small surprised voice on his side, a hand reaching over for his arm, then a stinging, cold sensation spreading in his veins.   
  
  
  
The pain slowly soothes itself away.   
  
  
  
Once it felt bearable enough, he finally had the strength to slowly open his eyes. The piercing light above him greets him.  
  
  
  
“Hey, Mako.”   
  
  
He glances to his side, trying to make out who the figure sitting beside him was. His brain felt like it was running on a snail’s pace. In his irrational, alarmed state, he tries to sit up and find the blade that was stuck to his chest, and strains to break free when he feels the cables all over his body.   
  
The figure beside him jumps up in surprise. “Mako, hey, _hey_ —calm down, it’s okay, don’t—don’t do that.” A cold, soothing hand presses against his bare chest, and he melts back into the bed. “You’re okay, Mako. You’re safe.”   
  
“Mom?” his illogical mind suggested.   
  
“No, sorry, I—it’s… it’s just Korra.”   
  
He swallows to ease his dry throat before speaking again. “Korra… where—”  
  
“The hospital,” she answers for him. “You’ve… you had a pretty rough few days, man.”   
  
“Days…?” Mako frowns. His thoughts immediately jumped to his brother. “Bolin—”  
  
“—He’s okay,” Korra answered easily, as if she already had a script for all the answers to his questions. “Asami had to drag him home so he could sleep. He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t leave.”   
  
  


_Asami took care of him.  
  
  
_ He eases his head back to the soft, comforting pillow.   
  
  
“Yeah. You should… you should go back to rest.” Korra settles back to her chair. “I’ll be here, if you need me.”   
  
“Did I make it up?” He rasps.   
  
“What?”  
  
“Did I make it up to you two?” Mako repeats, forcing his eyes to stay open for another minute. “By—by saving Asami?”   
  
Korra stares at him. Her expression was unreadable. “Why… what do you need to make up for?”   
  
“For… for being a terrible person in general,” he mutters, the drug making him talk. “An asshole.”   
  
She scoffs. “That’s… that’s why you jumped in front of her? Because you felt like you needed to make up for our stupid past conflicts?”   
  
“Her life worth more than mine,” He tells her. “I—I saw it, the future you have together. You two have so much to live for.”

“And you don’t?”  
  
Mako thinks about it for a while. “No.”   
  
“And how do you think Bolin would feel if he hears this?” Korra crosses her arms, angry tears pooling on the corner of her eyes. “Or—or Asami? Or Wu?”   
  
He swallows, shutting his eyes. There was too many questions, too much to think about. His head throbs. “I don’t… I don’t know.”  
  
“You think they’d be happier if you were gone? You think _I_ would—” She lets out an angry sob, brushing away the tears from her eyes. “Spirits, man, you’re so messed up.”  
  
He couldn’t help but stifle a genuine laugh at that. “Yeah, I know.”  
  
“You’re my best friend,” Korra continues angrily, “and I almost lost you. I don’t care if your messed up head thinks you deserve it, I just—I need you as much as I needed everyone else in my life. And I was _so scared.”  
  
_  
“I’m sorry.”   
  
  
  
Silence fills in the room.   
  
  
  
  
“I’m taking you to see Katara once the hospital discharges you, okay?” Korra says, only half-joking.   
  
“Fair enough,” Mako mumbles, slipping away again. “Will I—will I still be your best man, though?”   
  
She lets out a small laugh. “Of course, asshole.”   
  
  
  
  
  
(It was the first time Mako felt good about that title.)  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr blog!!](https://hereforthehurts.tumblr.com/)


End file.
